


You make me crazy.

by sjakalen



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Arkham Asylum, Asylum, Bottom!Dan, Dan Howell - Freeform, Domestic Violence, Harleen Quinzel - Freeform, Insanity, Joker au, Joker crossover, Love, M/M, Madness, Obsession, Phan - Freeform, Phan Fluff, Phan Smut, Phandom - Freeform, Phil Lester - Freeform, Smut, Suicide Squad, Suicide Squad AU, The Joker - Freeform, phanfic, top!phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 20:31:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8027950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sjakalen/pseuds/sjakalen
Summary: ‘’We’re gonna be friends, Doctor,’’ The madman slurs, chuckling a bit as Dan lets out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in. ‘’Very good friends.’’ Dan knows this man is the raw definition of danger, that he shouldn’t test his limits and question his demands, but something about Phil’s unapologetic personality fills him with determination. Their shared eye contact seals the unspoken deal – The Joker will let Dan take a look inside of his brain, analyze and perhaps cure his screwed psyche, and in return Dan will give Phil whatever he wants, even if he doesn’t know exactly what his mahogany eyes are agreeing to yet.//Suicide Squad AU - Phil is a lunatic and Dan is his doctor.





	You make me crazy.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a blast writing this! I hope whoever chooses to read this, will enjoy it as much as I did writing :)  
> Feel free to comment, constructive criticism and kudos are always welcome.
> 
> A big shoutout to 'somanydestiel' who beta-read and polished and cleaned this messy little fic, thank you so, so much!!!! Check out her work too, she's amazing. :)
> 
> Phan is real ya'll
> 
> xx

 

**I.  
**

They have doomed him as a closed case, a situation that can't really be fixed. They want him doped up and hidden away, his twisted mind put on a hold, and what it has to offer kept off display. Dan thinks it’s a shame; their fear of the unknown keeping them from learning. From _seeing_. He doesn’t get why the mere idea of taking a look inside the joker’s brain, thinking his thoughts and feeling his feelings, isn’t making them absolutely gleeful. Isn’t making them _excited_. At the same time, Dan does get why he feels like the walk to their session room is one of _shame_. Assigned to the clown himself, Dan takes it as _challenge_. The air grows thick with tension as he pushes the door to the room open, getting his first glance of _him_. The joker, the clown, the _freak_. But before he was any of that, he was Phillip Lester _._ Known by friends and family as Phil, a lanky 29-year old guy. His alias had gotten known throughout Gotham city, when he had started messing with the infamous mafia. The murders that followed had been so twisted, brutal and bizarre, that he had been crowned as king of Gotham’s underground. He does have history at Arkham, too, Dan had found out. When Phil was 16 he had a complete meltdown, the cause being post-traumatic stress syndrome produced by the tragic death of his father. That’s what the journals says, at least. Dan can’t wait to find out at what point Phil turned insane, went from a mourning fatherless kid to a complete _psychopath_.   
   
There’s been countless rumors about his look. Dan has heard them all, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.  The rumors have a couple of traits in common, all agreeing on the fact that the joker is a tall, slim silhouette, whose presence will _haunt_ you in your maddest nightmares, his laugh forever on replay in your mind, make you a firm believer of the Antichrist. That is if you survive your encounter with him. Dan can confirm those rumors now. ‘’You must be the..’’ Phil takes a moment to look over Dan, blue eyes pinning the psychiatrist to the doorway, making him unable to move, think and _breathe_. ‘’..the _doctor_ ,’’ Phil finishes, a petrifying, silver grin lighting up the entire room.  

 Even clothed in a straitjacket, feet secured to the table he’s sitting at by ankle cuffs, he manages to make shivers go down Dan’s spine. ‘’Howell,’’ Dan says, when the trance-like atmosphere comes to an end. ‘’Daniel Howell.’’   
   
The fascinated doctor sits down at the small table, leans back in his chair and finds a notebook and a pen. ‘’Daniel. What a pretty name, _pumpkin_ ,’’ Phil states, drawing out each vowel as a lullaby, the raspy voice creating an incredibly off-putting serenade. Dan raises a dark eyebrow at the pet name, gesturing that Phil shouldn’t go too far with stern, cynical eyes. ‘’Do your friends call you Dan?’’ The older one asks with a tilted head, a _knowing_ look grazing his features, as if he sees right through Dan, knows him like the back of his own hand, knows what an asocial and introverted fuck he is, taunted in one of the worst possible ways by life, by _love_ , trust-issues not being enough to describe his insecurities.  

 ‘’I suppose you already know why you’re here, Mr. Lester,’’ Dan continues somewhat unaffected, wearing a professional poker face, that only tells Phil he isn’t getting anywhere with his obscure mindgames. Dan turns to a blank page, clicks his pen and scribbles down the patient’s name, makes a short note of the joker’s off-putting and sickly friendly behavior. Phil leans a bit over the table, face dangerously close to Dan’s. For a minute Dan feels his insides twist and turn as he studies the jokers face, searching for a _person_ underneath the cheap, white face paint. When he doesn’t find one, goosebumps dances elegantly down the sides of his arms. Then Phil _laughs_ , and Dan has _never_ heard anything alike.  

‘’We’re gonna be friends, Doctor,’’ The madman slurs, chuckling a bit as Dan lets out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in. ‘’ _Very_ good friends.’’   
   
Dan knows this man is the raw definition of danger, that he shouldn’t test his limits and question his demands, but something about Phil’s unapologetic personality fills him with _determination_. Their shared eye contact seals the unspoken deal – The Joker will let Dan take a look inside of his brain, analyze and perhaps _cure_ his screwed psyche, and in return Dan will give Phil _whatever_ he wants, even if he doesn’t know exactly what his mahogany eyes are agreeing to yet. Phil can’t wait for the thrilling moment he _does_. He can almost picture the looks on the citizens of Gotham’s face, as Dan’s name becomes the headlines of papers throughout the entire frightened city, surviving colleagues forever honoring his memory with a sad ‘I told you so’ attitude.  

 ‘’I believe we are, Phillip,’’ Dan answers coldly, fiddling a bit with the pen between his fingers, maintaining the icy facade. ‘’But before we can become friends, I need you to tell me why you killed those people.’’  

 Another grin, this one clearly amused, and wide, blue eyes _almost_ tells Dan why. ‘’I’m just a troubled, misunderstood soul, sweet cheeks,’’ Phil states, each raspy word _dripping_ with sarcasm and venom. Dan huffs at the madman’s unoriginal intro.   
   
Dan has been raised his whole life to always see the good in people, no matter how cruel and evil they may seem to the rest of the world. Maybe they haven’t pulled the best straws in life, maybe they don’t know kindness, joy and _love_ the way Dan does. The day Dan stops believing that he can make people live life like it’s _supposed_ to be, is _not_ today. When their session is over, Dan informs his boss he’s taking the case. Though ending his years at university with a grade A in analyzing body language, he can’t decide whether the look on his boss’s face is one of admiration or _pity_.   
 

 

  
**II.**

 

‘’What’s wrong with being a little..’’ Phil searches for the right word to describe his behavior, searches for the right word to explain why exactly it feels so _good_ being a man of no moral, the right word to make Dan _understand,_ understand how good it feels letting go, setting no boundaries for what you can do and who you can become. Letting go lets you become your own ruler, lets you create your own _destiny_. Of course, Dan doesn’t see that yet – blinded by the frames his polished psyche has him trapped in. ‘’ _Crazy_?’’ He finishes his question, eyes giving away a certain kind of desperation, impatience taking over his features as he awaits Dan’s answer.    

The doctor huffs a bit, not looking up from his notebook, scribbling down the impressive lack of _remorse_ Phil possesses. He has seen many sinful people while working at Arkham, but none who has such little conscience. ‘’There’s nothing wrong with being a little crazy, Mr. Lester,’’ He starts out, clicking his pen and placing it on the table in front of them. He closes the notebook, holds it in his lap. When he looks up, it’s straight into the blue ocean of _madness_ Phil eyes offer. ‘’However, there’s something wrong with using your lack of sanity as an excuse for killing people. That’s _bad_.’’  

The madman rolls his eyes a bit, letting a laugh escape dark, red lips. ‘’You’re a funny one, Doctor,’’ Phil states as he leans back in his chair. ‘’I’ll give you that.’’ He likes Dan he decides, even if the young doctor doesn’t realize how witty he is. He’s a feisty one, snarky and quick at a comeback. They _complement_ each other, and even though Dan probably would never agree, they’re alike in more ways than just one.  

‘’Your journal says you’re a sociopath,’’ Dan ignores Phil’s comment, but deep down in the back of his mind he’s grateful for whatever made The Joker decide, that Dan is someone worth having a conversation with. They’re not men of many words, none of the two, but when they do talk words are chosen _carefully_. ‘’Are you, Phil?’’ Dan knows he’s still at unexplored territory, testing out how far he can go without reaching the _limits._   

Phil wonders if he should tell him he hasn’t got any. ‘’I don’t know, darling,’’ He answers, Dan allowing the pet name with suspicious eyes. ‘’You tell me.’’ The odd atmosphere is difficult to describe, shifting between being daring and even somewhat _playful_ , then back to being uncomfortable and downright strangling. ‘’What’s it gonna be, Dan?’’ Phil lets himself get lost in the thoughtful mahogany eyes, but only for a brief moment. Those warm, brown orbs could easily keep you as a prisoner. ‘’ _Am I_?’’ It’s too _simple_ , in a way. Sad too, simplifying what the clown’s twisted mind consists of.   

‘’I don’t know, Phil,’’ Dan admits, tapping his fingers calmly against the table.  

‘’What if?’’ Phil pushes, leaving Dan in a metaphorical corner. The question hangs heavily in the air, dancing a beautiful dance along with the tension that surrounds them. Dan does a thing he has never done in a session, shoulders shrugging. He doesn’t know. ‘’You’re gonna cure me, Doctor? _Fix_ me?’’    
   
Dan imagines how Phil would have turned out, had the unknown plot twist not happened. He knows there was a time where Phil had clean hands, was _pure_. They talk about those times often, fond childhood memories of playing in the sun and happy days reaching the surface – and perhaps that’s were Phil is most unnerving, when the little _human_ part that’s still left in him shows its face. Dan tries to imagine Phil as a caring son, a thoughtful husband and a loving father – a stable family, love life and psyche.  

‘’Can I?’’ He asks, because the possibility is in reality all up to Phil.  

‘’No.’’ Phil shakes his head, a sly, red smirk making shivers go down Dan’s spine. ‘’And I’m starting to think you don’t _want_ to either, darling.’’ 

  

  

 **III.**    
 

Phil ends up sticking around for a bit, not bothering escaping the asylum just yet. He puts his plans on a hold, the delay being caused by the intensity of the young doctor’s fascination. He really likes the way Dan’s eyes almost _sparkles_ , as he lets him try out various of different roads and routes to the labyrinth that leads to his mind. Another reason for staying definitely will be the look on Dan’s face as he realizes he’s caught in a dead end, unable to _escape_ Phil’s bony fingers picking off the petals of his psyche’s beautiful rose. He’s not going to be an easy one, Phil concludes as they dig deeper into the relationship as doctor and patient, way too deep for it to be considered at least somewhat _normal_. If Dan has noticed too, he doesn’t mention. As time passes, he realizes something about Dan is too _familiar_ , though not being able to point a finger at exactly _what_. He senses it on the days his observing eyes have been lingering for a bit too long at Dan, the doctor instantly reeking of instinctive defense mechanisms – he’s _good_ at hiding his dirty secrets, but Phil’s _better_ at figuring them out. All he knows is that there’s a quiet, secret storm _raging_ behind those usually calm mahogany eyes. Phil has seen that same storm many years ago, slowly but _securely_ ruining something way too good to be ruined in such a boring way. The only one who should be allowed to ruin Dan is _him_ , and the thought of that not being reality yet makes his skin crawl with impatience. The last time he saw that storm, it didn’t end nicely. Luckily, The Joker _doesn’t_ like when things ends nicely.   
   
‘’The journals aren’t exactly speaking the truth, Doctor,’’ Phil informs him one day, eyes _devouring_ the younger male long before he’s even seated. The lunatic can almost see the goosebumps take form up and down Dan’s slim arms, feel the shivers dancing a _cruel_ dance down his spine. Watching him barely contain his obscure excitement is almost unbearable.  

 ‘’Which parts are lies?’’ Dan asks, shaky voice coated with something much stronger than fear, dangerous adrenaline flowing through his veins, waiting for the strange man in front of him to _finally_ commit to his sins.  

 ‘’The start.’’ Dan leans back in his chair, listening closely. The atmosphere in the room is nauseous, tension thick and knocking the air out of his lungs, painted face being the raw definition of _severity_.  ‘’I found her passed out in a pool of blood one day,’’ Phil starts the storytelling, blue eyes never blinking, wanting to savor all the little emotions tormenting the young doctor’s face when he’s struck with realization. ‘’He had left her with four broken ribs and a shattered family portrait,‘’ Phil commits, raspy voice getting rough and gruff around the edges. Dan’s mind is working at full speed, connecting all the little dots and solving all the little puzzles the joker’s existence consists of. ‘’You see, my old man had a habit of putting his _dirty_ hands where they didn’t belong.’’ Dan knows that habit too well, haunting nights still leaving him black and blue when the sun rises, marks hidden in places only for him to see. ‘’So that night I put mine around his neck.’’   
   
They sit in silence for a bit, Phil’s face lit up by a _despicable_ grin. He got Dan right where he wants him, twisting and turning the young doctor’s definition of what’s right and wrong, good and bad. Dan finds himself in a swirl of emotions, shifting between being intrigued, relieved and terrified all at once.  Not entirely because of the reveal itself, but mostly because Phil _knows_. ‘’Mr. Lester,’’ Dan starts out, but is quickly cut off by the maniac.    
  
‘’Don’t talk like one of them,’’ He snaps, leaning quickly over the table, a green strand of slick hair finding its way down in front of his left eye in the process. ‘’I know you’re not.’’    
  
Dan used to think a mind was something unable to be shared, but the way Phil _stares_ into the windows of his soul, face barely inches apart from his own, proves him wrong in every possible way. Dan doesn’t write anything down, notebook closed and placed on the table in front of them. He should.  

‘’ _How_?’’ Dan starts, trembling a bit as he _confesses_. ‘’How did you know?’’ He doesn’t get an answer. Knowing there’s no point of return after that, he lets Phil do as he pleases – even if that means he’ll get _trapped_. The lunatic closes his eyes in pure bliss, the riddle _finally_ solved.   
   
‘’Why do you let him?’’  

Dan doesn’t bother with the same usual excuses - Phil would see right through them instantly. He furrows his dark brows, wondering if Phil would understand, if he told him that all he ever wanted was to reach out and _touch_ another human being, not just with his hand, but with his _heart_. He wonders if Phil knows about all the lonely nights that came before, knows how _good_ it felt to finally fill up the big hole in his chest, even if it’s no longer with sweet words and affectionate gestures, but clenched fists and harsh words.  

‘’I need it,’’ Dan says, letting the ugly truth escape.  

Phil won’t judge, of _course_ he won’t, and that shouldn’t feel as reassuring as it does. ‘’You’re way too..’’  Phil’s a wild creature speaking another language, one that doesn’t consist of words, so he takes his time figuring out which word is suitable for kind hearted people like Dan. ‘’.. _Precious_ for that,’’ He finishes, silver smile making a _sickly_ sweet feeling rise in Dan’s chest. ‘’He won’t hurt you, love,’’ Phil promises right before their time is up, and even though the madman should be in no position to fulfill that wish anytime soon, Dan _believes_ him. ‘’Not anymore.’’   
   
He returns to an empty apartment later that evening, bracing himself for empty bottles of whiskey and _cold_ touches, but finding neither as he opens the door. It takes him a while to realize all traces of another person living in his house is gone, too lost in thought about someone he _definitely_ shouldn’t think about outside his workplace. The confusion isn’t there for long, but the surprise of Phil managing to make this happen while being locked up definitely is. The rest of the evening he’s in a _euphoric_ state, happy loud tunes from the radio in his kitchen filling his ears and healing his wounds, bringing him back to a place he hasn’t been in a long, _long_ time. The sadness doesn’t consume him until the night arrives, the realization of being _alone_ comes crashing down upon him as he’s lying next to an empty space in a king-sized bed, left alone to ponder his shame and despair in seclusion. The touch of solitude had, as always, been pleasant in the beginning, caring, soft and silky hands, but with a _cruel_ grasp making his heart ache. When he finally drifts off to sleep, his unconsciousness and a dream about blue eyes tells him he isn’t really alone.  

  

 **IIII.**  

   
Phil is a good listener, Dan learns over time – always there with a tilted head and a frown placed upon his lips as Dan enters their session room, heavy bags underneath his eyes and melancholy grazing his whole presence. He takes it all away, removes the sadness, the hurt and the _longing_ from Dan’s existence, takes all Dan’s broken pieces and sticks them all back together again. He tries to deny it at first, fully aware of how morally wrong what Phil makes him feel is, knowing nothing good is going to happen, if he continues letting Phil charm him with annihilating eyes and delicate smiles. He allows it from time to time, to be _consumed_ by the affection the sinful man has to offer, lets Phil fill out the big, dark hole in his heart with silver grins and an _invidious_ laughter. It’s bizarre how elegant Phil makes the whole situation seem, even if it is the complete opposite, unhealthy and _venomous_ – at least, that’s what it _should_ be. Phil has a way of making even his cruelest words sound kind, his filthiest thoughts seem unadulterated. It started with something as simple as his humor, which had appeared to be twisted and disgusting in the beginning, something to frown heavily upon, but now makes it _impossible_ for Dan to stifle a laugh every time the _entrancing_ lunatic cracks an odd, obscure joke. They have a bond between the two of them, something that can’t be described with mere sugar sweet declarations, something way _more_ than just that.   
   
‘’Doctor Howell,’’ Phil nearly coos, drawing out each vowel with a hissing tongue as Dan once again is seated in front of him, notebook full of his observations regarding the joker long forgotten. ‘’You know, I really _live_ for these moments with you.’’ Dan smiles at that, though this one doesn’t quite reach his mahogany eyes like they usually do throughout his encounters with Phil. Phil senses it _immediately_ , face turning stone hard within seconds, narrowing eyes making Dan look down. ‘’What’s wrong, pumpkin?’’ He asks, the idea of someone having put his little doctor in this state setting his cells on _fire_ , making him twist and turn inside of the straitjacket keeping him captured.  

‘’It’s over,’’ Dan starts out, leaning defeated back in his chair, already preparing for the absurd _sorrow_ that’s going to hunt him to the end of time afterwards. ‘’They have the chair ready for you, Phil.’’  

 He lets a dry laugh escape his lips at that, slowly shaking his head at Dan’s words. ‘’You thought you could save me?’’ He really thought he could, _blinded_ by the hideous reality, and living for too long in the world Phil has created for the two of them. It was nice while it lasted, imagining what they could’ve been outside the four walls of the session room. ‘’I bet you thought you could get me out of here,’’ Phil states in a hoarse voice, reading Dan’s thought effortlessly. ‘’Start a _life_ with me.’’ The lunatic knows his guesses are accurate, as the doctor’s face scrunches up in realization and _discomposure_. ‘’That’s too sweet, love,’’ He hums unaffected by the melodramatic atmosphere while leaning over the table, making Dan look up from the ground.    
  
‘’Could’ve been nice, couldn’t it?’’ Dan asks in a sigh, offering a small smirk to Phil as the _rational_ part of his brain slowly wakes up. Phil can’t have that.  

‘’It’s not impossible,’’ Phil promises, seducing Dan’s needs once again just with words, the hope dominating Dan’s warm, brown orbs making him shiver with sheer _anticipation_.  

‘’ _How?_ ’’ Phil nods towards the straps on the straitjacket, and it’s all downhill from there really.   
   
There’s a couple of seconds where Dan stares at him in disbelief, not quite welcoming the idea with open arms yet, knowing that no matter how kind, understanding and _luring_ Phil might be, he’ll never be less than a cold-hearted killer. That’s what his colleagues wanted him to think, when they told him he’s gotten a little bit too invested in The Joker, that’s what they wanted him to think, when they told him to professionally inform his patient their times are over. The only trouble is that it _isn’t_ what Dan actually thinks right now. In a matter of second Dan is kneeling at the opposite side of the table, fingers working quickly at undoing the straps, helping Phil pull it off and disregarding it on the floor. There’s a calm before the storm, Phil looking thoughtfully at Dan while stretching his sore arms, defined biceps flexing underneath the thin shirt. He’s been patient, watching with calm eyes as Dan had struggled to accept every aspect of his _submission_ , to abandon all his boring, sensible thoughts, leaving the responsible and tediously rational side of himself behind. But it’s been worth it, the doubt and slight discomposure now grazing Dan’s features almost making Phil lose control. Underneath the almost unnoticeable shivering, only visible to Phil’s _devouring_ stare, the madman senses an animalistic side ready to be released - and it’s all for _him_.  

 ‘’You’re scared,’’ Phil states, amusement coating his voice in thick layers as he rises from the chair. Dan backs away silently as Phil towers over him, stopping when brushing against the wall. It’s almost as if he has just freed a wild animal, ready to attack. He closes his eyes, waits for The Joker to ruin the bond of _trust_ between them, prove that every good thought Dan thinks of him is an illusion. The attack comes in a pair of harsh, cruel lips against his sensitive neck, and then Dan is _lost_ , the war going on consisting of angry and _rough_ kisses with tongue and teeth.   
   
Dan removes Phil’s shirt with impatient yet incredibly gentle hands, the tension they’ve build up over time coming to an end. The pale and slightly muscular torso now visible is filled with ink, obscure tattoos not surprising Dan one bit. He lets a shaky hand run down the patch of firm muscle, biting down on his lips as he feels the joker tense with _pleasure_ underneath his warm touch. Phil’s left hand finds rest on Dan’s side, making his whole body arch delicately. Said hand moves swiftly around Dan’ hip, slipping under his shirt to rest on the small of his back, making his skin _burn_ pleasantly where ever Phil touches him, the places that are untouched longing _desperately_ for that heat. Phil feels his white hospital pants tighten as he makes Dan whimper with skilled fingertips, occupied hand pulling the doctor closer, wanting _more_. Dan can feel Phil’s hardness through his pants, feel the erection pressed hard against his own. Knowing he’s the one who’s made Phil like this makes his heart flutter and his hips roll. Phil cups a feel around a plump asscheek, the doctor moaning out symphonies of slurred, _dirty_ words as the harsh grip tightens, knowing there’ll be sore, blue marks the following day.   
   
Phil places his free hand against Dan’s neck, squeezing a bit to make it clear who’s going to _dominate_ , the younger one letting him control his breathing with _no_ hesitation. ‘’You’re beautiful like this,’’ Phil breathes out in a husky voice, a strand of green, slick hair finding its way down in front of his eyes. ‘’All worked up because of me.’’ He lets a dry, bony finger slide down Dan’s crack, the way the younger one closes his eyes in a flawless mix between pain and pleasure, high-pitched whimpers leaving his parted lips as he slowly pushes it inside of him, is almost making Phil fuck Dan _senseless_ against the wall right there, right _now_. ‘’Gonna make you scream,’’ He promises while stretching out the tight, warm entrance and _impatiently_ adding another digit, Dan pushing back against his fingers with determination and _need_.   

‘’Prove it,’’ Dan dares, barely stifling a scream as he sees _stars_ , the fingers inside him pounding against a bundle of nerves making him become undone. ‘’ _Fuck_ me.’’ Phil grins _uncontrollably_ at that, silver very quickly becoming Dan’s favorite color at that moment, the lunatic pleasantly surprised by his _filthy_ choice of words.    
  
‘’Turn around for me, love.’’   
   
Phil is big, Dan realizes that as he pushes himself coldheartedly and _merciless_ inside of him, pants pooling around both of their ankles. It feels good being filled _unkindly_ up, almost as if he’s being _claimed_ , the two of them once again taking the roles as predator and prey. Phil bites down on Dan neck as he’s fully seated inside, leaving marks in places he won’t be able to hide, that’ll make him remember just how _good_ Phil is making him feel for _days_ afterwards. Phil grasps him roughly by his hair, finding the few seconds he lets Dan adjust _unbearable,_ the tightness driving him even more insane, if that’s possible. Then they fuck, and they do it _hard_ , the sound of skin against skin and sinful moans quickly filling up the session room. Phil sets a violent, inhumane pace, thrusting himself in and out of Dan with _rough_ , fast movements, making the doctor submit _completely_. Their bodies work together as if they’re one, something deeper going on between the pair than just rutting hips and mindless _fucking_. Phil touches the parts of Dan that no one else has – possesses a piece of him that had yet to be discovered before the madman entered his life. It isn’t love, they’re both completely aware of that. It’s something way more dangerous, way more intense and way more _sacrificing_.   
   
Phil wraps a hand around Dan’s length, strokes him in time with his own cruel trusts, muscles tense as his whole body works on pushing Dan over the edge. It’s beautiful, watching Dan’s need for more diminish his shame, watching him drown in feelings he’s not supposed to feel, a thrill such as he’s never known clouding over his lustful mind, fear, joy, excitement and _madness_. It feels good, surrendering to arms too strong and lips too bruising. Phil tightens his grip in Dan’s hair, lets out a couple of hot breaths against his neck before biting down on his earlobe.  

‘’ _Mine_ ,’’ He growls possessively, and Dan agrees instantly by pushing his hips backwards.

 No skill of his can immortalize how absolutely gorgeous Dan is like this, wrecked and _ruined_. He finds it almost impossible, the thought of the younger one having doubts about himself, the dim light in the session room shining upon him, golden and _perfect_ , making him look like some kind of radiant _god_. Climax hits and sends Dan straight into an _euphoric_ state, whole body dedicated to what Phil’s _impure_ hands has to offer, eyes closing and lips parting as he practically _screams_ out Phil’s name. The madman continues to pound brutally into him, the tightness shortly after making him come, filling up the younger one with spurts of hot semen. Phil pulls out after a while of them catching their breath, wrapping his arm around the fragile doctor and keeping him close, safe from the cruel reality Phil knows is going to come, even if just for a minute.    
  
‘’I need a machine gun.’’ 

  

 **IIIII.**    
   
  
‘’What do we have here?’’ Phil laughs manically as he enters the basement, the sight of Dan strapped to an electric chair making his cell burn so very pleasantly. Arkham is in flames, the obscure criminals the place holds let out of their cage, ready to tear the place _completely_ apart. They’re seen as defective, they need to be locked up and kept off display, but Phil sees _power_ and a hunger for revenge, a very dangerous combination. Dan looks _beautiful_ like this, seated firmly on the throne of madness, confusion and hurt almost reaching his mahogany eyes.  
  
‘’What are you gonna do, Mr. Lester?’’ He spits, pulling at the straps securing his wrists. ‘’You’re gonna kill me?’’  
  
Phil tilts his head in a husky chuckle, nearing the doctor. Dan feels as if he’s only now seeing the joker at his fullest, watching the lights of insanity dancing violently in his devouring eyes, flickering like the flames of hell. He knows there’ll never be anything to quench those fires but sheer _chaos_. He’s breathtaking like this, not quite decided on what he’s going to do with the doctor, Dan fully aware of the war going on behind the blue orbs. ‘’Oh, I’m not gonna kill you,’’ Phil promises, preparing the lateral cerebral diathermia treatment he’s going to put Dan through, consisting of basically _frying_ the young doctor’s sanity with jolts of electricity. Dan had wanted to understand him so _desperately_ in the beginning, wanted to feel his feelings and think his thoughts, but nice people like Dan simply doesn’t _get_ cruel people like Phil, at least not without a little _help_. The device was mostly used in the early 1900’s, at the time on hysterical psychosis sufferers. Eventually it was deemed unsafe and unreliable, and in that way the device and Phil is very alike. ‘’I’m just gonna hurt you.’’ He places the device around Dan’s head, an excited grin making Dan’s insides twist and turn in discomfort. ‘’Really, _really_ bad.’’ Phil needs to get rid of him, needs to get him out of his _mind_. Being alone is one of the perks of being him, being _insane_ , but Dan has changed all that with gentle, sympathizing eyes and _hope_. He _despises_ the doctor right at this moment, despises Dan for not looking at him with a look of hatred and resent, but one of pure trust. He can’t give Dan what he needs, can’t give Dan what he _deserves_ , they both know that, and yet Dan is willing to sacrifice _everything_ just to kneel in submission beside the lunatic.  
  
‘’You think so?’’ Dan asks daringly, eyes narrowing together as he lets Phil test him. He can prove he’s not like the others, he can prove he won’t leave, he can prove he isn’t _scared_. This cruel world simply isn't built for people like  _them_ , and even if Phil knows he can't keep Dan at his hand, the younger one definitely doesn't deserve to be drowned in moral and strangled by conscience. He's way to good for that. ‘’I can take it.’’   
   
   
**IIIIII.**    
   
‘’You make me crazy,’’ He says, lips parted in a breathless gasp, eyes fixated addicted on the absolute madman before him. Dan shoots a quick glance downwards, the deep blue sea staring right back at him, almost in a _luring_ manner, begging him to come closer. Phil flashes a broad grin, his own kind of ironic sadness caressing his face, silver teeth on full display. Dan thinks he looks very beautiful like this.  

‘’Do I now, _darling_?’’ The lunatic asks, the haunting laugh filling Dan’s head, clouding over his chaotic mind once again. Phil’s _sickening_ joy comes to a halt rather quickly, severity dancing violently across his painted face, thin eyebrows furrowing. ‘’Do you know what the..’’ He stops, one bony finger tracing Dan’s parted lips. ‘’..What the only thing that’s worse than being crazy is?’’ Dan shakes his head. He doesn’t. Not when Phil stares at him like that, a look of thoughtfulness making bright blue eyes glossy. ‘’Sane. Which you make _me_.’’ For a brief moment, The Joker’s normally manipulating and cruel eyes show signs of blame and _resent._ But only briefly.   
   
‘’Would you die for me?’’ Phil tilts his head a bit to the side, raising an eyebrow. Dan knows by now he should say no, knows by now that _nearly_ everything that comes out of Phil’s mouth is lies filled with despair and _poison_. It doesn’t matter. He _needs_ this. Dan slowly nods. ‘’No, no. That’s too easy,’’ Phil spits out, taking a step backwards. ‘’Would you..’’ He takes his time to form his next words, expression unreadable and unpredictable, wide open eyes never leaving Dan’s. ‘’..Would you _live_ for me?’’ Phil’s mannerisms and the way he pronounces each word in his babbling dialogue is downright bone chilling, makes Dan uncomfortable and fills him with fear and _fascination_.  

 ‘’Yes.’’  

The Joker doesn’t need a longer answer, aware of the power he has over the younger one. Aware of the fact that he practically _owns_ Dan’s psyche, and how Dan _definitely_ doesn’t mind. ‘’Careful. Do not say this oath _thoughtlessly,_ my love.’’ He takes another step backwards, leaving Dan hanging on the edge. The edge of the bridge, the edge of _sanity_. ‘’Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes.. _power_.’’ The truth has never sounded so warning before, Dan thinks. ‘’Do you want this?’’ Phil asks, pale fists clenching in anticipation.  

‘’I do.’’   
   
The lunatic in all honestly doesn’t know why he takes so long, doesn’t know why he doesn’t get the job done, which includes getting completely rid of Dan. Destroying what’s _left_ of him. He got what he wanted, he doesn’t need Dan anymore. It’s just routine, it _should_ be. ‘’Prove it.’’ It comes out as a desperate snarl, a daring, nerve wrecking scream camouflaged as a gentle, devouring whisper. ‘ _’Jump in_.’’ He gestures to the sea underneath them, hand motions violent, irritation and impatience grazing his features. ‘’Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty...’’ Dan takes a step backwards, feels his left foot and self-control lose balance.    
  
‘’Please,’’ He says, interrupting the joker. Phil watches for a while, _mesmerized_ by the submissive dedication.  

‘’God, you’re so.. _Good_.’’ He praises, and then Dan is falling. Falling, falling, _falling_. It shouldn’t feel so good.   
   
Phil turns around before those strange, _strange_ feelings consume him, turns around before he regrets, ready to leave Arkham Asylum and Dan way, _way_ behind. Ready to make _it_ and _him_ something and someone that belongs in the past, deep buried. But he can’t, something _stops_ him. As Dan continues to fall, the sea ready to swallow him whole and delete all trails of existence, something makes The Joker realize he’s not the only one poisonous, makes him realize he too is _owned_. Something at that very moment makes the coldblooded murderer realize a psychopath like him might be able to possess one of the most humane values, _love_. He’s the king of Gotham, the king doesn’t _do_ love. But Dan is the prince. His pretty, crazy prince. So he jumps in after him, leaving his expensive blazer and the dignity of being a ruler of the underground behind, neon green dyed hair being ruffled roughly by the gravity he’s currently defying. The joker reaches out for Dan, silver teeth giving off a bizarre and promising smile, Phil grinning _uncontrollably_ as the younger one lets the surface of the water consume him, lets the little amount of who he was _before_ drown. Phil saves him. From painful, dirty _sanity_ , from death and from _life_ itself. He saves Dan from the waves threatening to take him away from him, holds the younger one close in an unfamiliar embrace, bony fingers clawing desperately at Dan’s shoulders.   
   
He’s being reborn, the cold water and Phil’s blood red lips suddenly on his waking up a side of him he has tried to keep hidden for so, _so_ long. It was there, all along. Phil just needed to poke at it a bit, bright blue eyes granting the access his demons needed. _Craved_. Dan opens his own eyes as soon as the cold air surrounds him again, gasps for air and gasps for _him_ , fingers getting tangled in wet, green locks. He finally _gets_ the joker, finally understands the releasing freedom that comes with giving up your sanity. Phil finally gets how it is giving it up to _someone_. When they part for air, the madman stares at Dan, stares at the wrecked, imperfect and _absolutely_ beautiful artwork he has created. ‘’Mine.’’ He growls in a deep, dark voice, throwing his head back as that same old, bizarre laughter rings through the night. 


End file.
